3/22/12

The idea for the product seems interesting to me - pre-mixed cocktails in a bottle. I'd be more likely to try those fancy mixed drinks if I didn't have to know how to make them. I can't make wine or beer, but I'm not expected to perform the final assembly on those before enjoying them. Why do cocktails enjoy the DIY status? Is it that everybody likes theirs mixed a little differently? If everybody made their own beer, you could say the same thing.

I always just pick up a bottle of wine or a twelve pack of Stella and call it a day, so I'll leave it to the more experienced drinks mixers to educate me in the comments. The question being "Why didn't this catch on?" Please enlighten.

Anyway, back to the bizarre choice of photo. Why is the guy's wife a secret? He looks like he's kissing her on the head, assuming there's a human back there.

Is he married to Lord Voldermort? Or maybe a Bond villain?

I've seen this scene before. The audience and I have entered the room, maybe holding a Walther PPK, leveled from the hip, of course. Husband Man is doting on the figure in the chair, obscured by the camera angle. He hands one of the drinks to the unseen person, and then calmly turns his head to look at us, because we totally haven't surprised him. They both knew we were there the whole time. Chilling.

Time to say something clever like...

"I prefer mine with vermouth, but thanksh anyway.*"
or
"Happy hour's over, Gingrich. Time to go down town."
or
"Hey! pre-mixed drinks! Neat! Why didn't these ever catch on?"
or
"I should be shooting you a bunch, instead of talking."
or
"Bryce! I had no idea! How long has this been going on?"
or
"Happy hour's over, Saruman. On your bike. Let's go."

Then the unseen sitter says something understated and lethal like...

"Nagini, KILL!"
or
"Mister Largo. At last, we meet. A drink before parting?"
or
"Fred MacMurray, KILL!"
or
"Prepare to get shot in the face... by the power of Isengard!"
or
"Ah, Mister Largo. So good of you to come, but I'm afraid you're too late. The Huge Frikkin Laser is already targeted and the controls are locked out. Say good bye to your precious LegoLand. Prepare to be made dead."

Then there's some kind of scuffle, frackas or bru-ha-ha and I save the day. Or I'm captured and rescued by Sophie Marceau in a shiny silver bikini, who has decided to switch sides at the last moment because she super wants me and we do it in an inflatable Zodiac while a model of the secret base explodes all over the place a little ways off, which would also be good.

7
comments:

I'm sure the hootch distributors didn't appreciate you buying the mix of something, when you can go out and but two or three bottles of the individual liquor. Cocktails are a "to taste" thing. People will tell you "that place makes a great whatevertini". Beers and wines are an individual taste, too. that's why there's so many different kinds.

I vote to side with Sue. The right hand is obviously "Stephan's" and Fred MacMurray is most likely undoing his.....blouse, after work? The ad did say "couples", right?-OR- to really twist this comment, perhaps it's "Sopha Marceau" the Pantomime Couch. Mimes wear stripes, not silver bikinis. Silly Phil.